Chapter 3
GRIFFIN
Wisps of steam rose from the white paper coffee cup, stark against the dark varnish of an imposing desk. Not quite as imposing as the woman standing behind it, though. Didn’t stop me from flapping my gums.
“A beer would’ve been nice.”
She rolled her eye. “So sorry. We’re in between bartenders at the moment. You should be thankful we’re giving you the good stuff. Made with actual beans.”
I glanced at the murky cup of hot water. I was thirsty, sure. But was I that thirsty?
“You look like hell, Gallows.”
My eyes swiveled resentfully upward. I wished I could say the same for her.
The crisp white shirt tucked into the perfectly pleated pants, her single gleaming eye that saw everything with the intensity of a bird of prey?
Commander Nicoletta Falcón was the very definition of put together.
The woman could flay a man with a single look, get him to confess his every darkest secret.
I never did ask about the eyepatch. Decided it wasn’t any of my business. Plus, I reckoned it would save me from getting punched in the face.
“What do you expect? You stuck me in a box for hours, then had one of your suits trot me out, only to stick me in a waiting room. What gives, Nicoletta?”
“Don’t give me that face, Gallows. I’d only just arrived. Figured I’d let you stretch your legs for a bit. I should’ve had them bring you a coffee while you waited, too.”
I grimaced at my still-cooling cup. Best coffee I ever had was at this place just a stone’s throw from a souk in Morocco. Meant to be drunk immediately, so hot it burned the throat. This stuff, though? The MEA didn’t make coffee, it made brown sludge that could substitute for cement.
“No thanks. Then I would have just suffered twice. You really hate me, don’t you?”
“That’s beside the point. I still like you enough to move you somewhere more comfortable, didn’t I?” Nicoletta planted both hands on the desk, leaning in. “But the real reason was that I wanted to grill your boxmate first.”
My nose wrinkled. “Oh. Him. Right. The one with the authenticating problem.”
“Bradley Brooks. You know the type. Bookish. Lives in libraries. Would collect PhDs forever if no one was around to stop him. Familiarity with multiple languages, even ancient tongues.”
There it was with the tongues again. I should have been turned off completely by what I’d learned of him in that box, but I couldn’t deny that he had a pretty face. And a fine name to go with it, too.
Bradley Brooks loves his books. I filed that away in case I ever ran into him again and would need to lightly bully him for whatever reason. Not the best schoolyard taunt, but I could workshop it.
“Annoying kid. Bugged the living hell out of me. But I don’t see how this has anything to do with me.”
I took a sip of my bean water, instantly regretting it.
Would have asked for cream and sugar, but Nicoletta seemed the type to take her coffee black.
Extra black. Espresso. Triple shot. She sat at her desk, hands folded in front of her.
I thought I detected a trace of a smile in the corner of her mouth.
Uh-oh.
“Come now, Griffin. You don’t seriously believe that we didn’t have enough room at the Hotel MEA? It wasn’t coincidence that the two of you ended up in the same accommodations. And now that I know you won’t try to kill each other after five minutes in close proximity, I think we can proceed.”
Everything clicked together in my head. Me, the guy who went out to retrieve artifacts. And Bradley, the guy who studied them. Stuck in the same box. And the agent showing up right before I could sock him in the teeth. My jaw fell.
“Absolutely not. Nicoletta, are you—no. No way am I working with that brat.”
She batted her lashes. “I haven’t even told you what you’re working on yet.”
I wagged my finger at her—a risky proposition, but no one said I was the smartest. Bradley had said as much himself.
“Listen here. You had me thrown into a box all because I forgot to fill out a damn form. You know me. You’ve known me for years. When have I ever knowingly done something that would endanger this community? Not the mundanes, and certainly not our kind.”
She shrugged. “People change, Griffin. But the rules don’t, generally speaking.
And rules are rules. Now, my people tell me that all you really had on you were some brass knuckles.
But the fact remains that you walked into MEA territory without declaring your very apocalyptic, incredibly dangerous lump of mineral. ”
“This isn’t even the first time you’ve thrown me in a box for the exact same object! You’ve seen it before.” I was so close to pulling my own hair out. “And you still kept me in lockup?”
“Like I said, I only just got here. But if I say the word, we can keep you here indefinitely while we study the thing. Again. Make sure it poses absolutely zero danger to the general populace. Maybe send it halfway around the world for a second opinion. And again for a third.”
My fingers dug into the armrests of my chair. “This is blackmail, Nicoletta. And very unbecoming of a high-ranking MEA agent.”
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Griffin.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder, barely holding back a self-congratulatory smile. “Call it a favor for an old friend.”
I crossed my arms. “Not feeling very friendly right now, if I’m being honest.”
Her fingernail tapped along the top of her desk. “We can make it worth your while.”
Hmm. This was starting to sound like a negotiation. I crossed my legs. “Go on.”
“Do this thing for me, and I won’t let you freeze in a box.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Fine. We’ll cover any reasonable expenses, and you’ll be paid a comfortable stipend. Profit for both you and me.”
Now things were getting interesting. I knew that Nicoletta liked to watch me squirm, but I had the sneaking suspicion that a lot of this had already been decided well in advance.
MEA clearly thought this was something worth pursuing.
I didn’t love the idea of working with this Bradley brat, but Griffin Gallows never said “No” to a healthy paycheck.
Maybe the flattery of being selected helped, too.
“So what’s the mission?”
Nicoletta folded her hands together, taking a deep breath. “Our little friend Bradley here was found on the property of one JA Williams. Local business magnate. Wealthy as anything. His authentication story checked out. Unfortunately, we also discovered bodies.”
That jolted me more than any cup of coffee would. I thought of the sweaty young man in the interview room. Looks could be deceiving, especially in our world, where the magical felt almost commonplace. But nothing about this Bradley kid suggested that he was a murderer.
“How do you know he was involved at all?”
She frowned. “Fingerprints. On a ritual dagger, on an inkwell. All over a laptop. Plain forensics, Gallows. Keep up.”
“But that doesn’t prove anything, only that he was physically on location.”
Her lips flattened into a tight line. “The bodies were upstairs. He was downstairs. I’ll grant him that.
This Williams character, we’ve been trying to pin a series of disappearances on him specifically.
Mundanes. Always mundanes, the dead that we find.
Yet somehow he slips from our grasp every damn time.
Bradley Brooks could finally be the key. ”
I rubbed my chin, scratching at the stubble, still processing the idea of this Bradley person being a murderer. “All he cares about is his stupid Hive.”
“Yes. I see you spent enough time in that room to discover his unfortunate choices in academic pursuits. Ah. There’s one other problem. Bradley here belongs to a prominent magical family.”
Just like that, all the imaginary goodwill I’d built up for the boy withered away. A rich kid, eh? Just like Nicoletta described. One of those forever academics with no practical experience to speak of.
“And I’m not too fond of how the parents will react if I hold him here any longer. I’m shocked he hasn’t demanded I reach out to them already. The Brooks family is—well, they’re interesting, to say the least. I’m sure you’ll be meeting the rest of the Brooks clan in good time.”
I pursed my lips like I’d tasted something worse than MEA’s burnt in-house coffee. “As long as they’re not as annoying as their offspring, I think we should get along okay.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “As annoying? Probably not. More problematic? Almost certainly. Bradley adores the study of the arcane and the occult but has not demonstrated any real magical ability. The rest of his family, though? I’d caution you to be on your best behavior, Griff. Just in case.”
I sat up straight. Not even any spellcasting?
“Wait a minute. So you’re saddling me with this kid who couldn’t throw together a spell to save his life, and his field of study is a mythical species of nonexistent bug monsters.”
Nicoletta raised a finger, wagging it in my face.
“Correction. He’s being saddled with you.
At least that’s how the story should go.
He’s an excellent resource for sniffing out more info on JA Williams. Keep him out of trouble, Gallows.
But under no circumstances is he to discover that you’re shadowing him on official MEA business. Understood?”
Well that did it. Just when I thought I couldn’t scowl any harder, Commander Nicoletta Falcón proved me wrong. “Can you actually call it shadowing when I’ll basically be breathing down his neck at all times?”
“Excellent. Then we’re on the same page.”
“Damn it, Nicoletta. There had better be some amazing paycheck waiting at the end of this godforsaken rainbow.” I held my hand out. “I’m doing your dirty work. Least you can do is let me have my damn knuckles.”
She reached for one of her drawers, then hesitated. “We’ll return them to you once we release both you and Bradley. Along with all the rest of your things. Which I’ve been told includes a number of very risqué publications. We do need to itemize everything, naturally.”
I held up my hands and shrugged, hoping it would distract from the burning sensation in my ears. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Her eye swiveled down to her desk as if she could somehow see straight through to the contents of that one drawer. “Twinks. And twunks. I won’t judge your tastes, Griffin, but surely this means that your mission won’t necessarily involve total suffering.”
I rose from my chair and jabbed a finger in the air as heat flushed up my chest. “I am a professional, damn it.”
“Glorious,” she said, rising to match my height. “Then you’ll do whatever it takes to get the job done.”
She pressed a shiny black button inlaid into the dark wood of her desk, ordering one of the agents to escort me back to my box. Our box. Mine and Bradley’s. As I turned to go, I could swear I caught the shadow of a smirk on Nicoletta’s lips.